


Confessions and Pepper Vodka

by caffeinatedmusing



Series: The Care and Feeding of Vampires [7]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Coming Out, Drinking Games, Friendship, Gen, pepper vodka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 06:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17554934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinatedmusing/pseuds/caffeinatedmusing
Summary: A drinking game with Dandelion and Zoltan to guess the identity of Geralt's new lover? A witcher really should know better....Response to a tumblr prompt from velvettodraws that I received about a million years ago and only just managed to get around to;For the OTP meme: #4. How would they describe each other to loved ones who haven’t met their partner yet?Of course, I took a few liberties, seeing as how they all know each other already. Its just the nature of the relationship they dont know.





	Confessions and Pepper Vodka

"So what have you been up to, eh? Heard you gotta place in Toussaint. Sure you're not too fancy for us, now?" Zoltan holds the little glass of vodka delicately in his thick, work- rough fingers, the way a lady might hold a teacup.

Geralt thinks about pointing out the comparison, but it might get him punched, so he just lets it warm him with mild amusement, and drinks his own vodka.

He hasn't seen Zoltan since the business at Caer Morhen. Feels like ages ago.

The bench shifts and Dandelion settles in next him, setting the fresh bottle of pepper vodka on the table. "To your health, my dear friends!" 

They toast and drink again and it feels just like it always does. It's easy to forget just how much has happened. What's changed. Well, the surroundings for one. They're all cozied up in a corner booth on the upper levels of the Chameleon. Dandelion's on a break, after having been on stage to play and then to announce a competition they'll be hosting next week.

His latest pet project is to try and encourage people to patronize the arts again now that the war is at an end. Towards that goal, he's been seeking out new talent to sponsor. Once a week, the stage is opened for whoever signs up. There are rules, requirements, challenges. Not everyone is a fan. Last week someone threw a brick through their window after they promoted an elven group. He and Priscilla have had their hands full.

Zoltan apparently went to Mahakam for a little while to clear up some business dealings he had there, and only just returned yesterday. He's been touchy to talk about it, which means he's lost money.

Geralt, of course, is on a contract. Or else he might have stayed away. Novigrad hasn't changed enough for his liking. He still gets spit on by the guards.

The job is a simple for once. Nekkers attacking carriages along the road. He spent the morning tracking them down, setting out traps and the like. A few more days and he'll have his results, hopefully his pay, and be on his way back. Home. It's an odd realization but one he's growing accustomed to.

He muses for a time, wondering what they've all gotten up to while he's been gone. How much the vines have grown, if it rained like they'd hoped it would. It'll be good to get back, to sit on the patio and have glass of wine while the sun sets, to smell the roses on the arbor blooming, Regis sitting next to him waxing on about some potion or new invention or other that he's been working on. He can almost hear the vampire's voice, that soft tone when he's talking mostly to himself but doesn't mind if Geralt is listening in...

He doesn't realize until Dandelion elbows him that he's been daydreaming, vodka forgotten, probably staring off into space and that he's completely missed whatever Zoltan was just telling them. He shifts, a little awkward, and clears his throat.

"Sorry, what?"

"Well, if I'm that boring to you, I'll go get a card game started downstairs and leave you to it."

"No, I was just...thinking about a contract. Go ahead with whatever you were saying."

Zoltan and Dandelion exchange a look before they both turn to Geralt.

"Liar. Who is she? You and Yen aren't back together again,are you? I mean, you would have told me, your oldest and dearest friend, if that were so, right?"

"No. I told you, that's done. What are you two on about?"

"You see it too, don't you, Zoltan?"

"Oh, aye, Geralt's got that look. As relaxed as a fart in a warm breeze. Whatever passes for happy for a witcher when they're not slayin monsters, you're it. More expressive, too. If you hadn't a been sharpenin' your silver blade when I came in, I'd have taken you for a doppler."

"So, who is she?" Dandelion pressed." A woman to render this much of a change for the positive in you must be worth a tale or two. Not another sorceress? You know my advice on that front. Not that you've yet to follow it."

"No," Geralt rolls his eyes. Although, Dandelion does have a point, he'll never admit it or he'll never hear the end of it. "It's not."

"Ha! Remember the night we all got right pissed trying to guess his lovers?" Zoltan slaps the table and pours them more vodka. "Are we laying in to play another round like that? I might need some pickles and lard to fortify me, if thats the case."

"Get it yourself this time." Geralt shakes his head, remembering Shani's old landlady who had everyone in terror of her. Well, all the menfolk, anyhow. Shani had gotten along with the old bat somehow.

"I still maintain that you, Geralt, cheated and lied, because I'm quite sure I named them all." Dandelion laughed."If we are going to play again, you must promise not to cheat. And I insist we get clues this time."

"Ugh...you're not letting this go." His heart has sped up a bit. He's not sure how far he wants to take this. He doesn't fear they'll disapprove, exactly. But he's gone so long without telling them certain things about his personal life that digging that up now seems much too late and possibly dangerous.

"Well, as I know most of the eligible ladies in Her Grace's court, this should pose no major strain on my deductive faculties. Lets see....How shall we begin? Dark eyes or light?" Dandelion asks, rubbing his hands together in poorly disguied glee.

"Know most of the ladies, or _know_?" Zoltan teases.

"No shame in both, gentlemen." Dandelion replies, loftily. "Though I'll thank you not to spread it around. Her Grace still hasn't forgiven all."

Geralt drinks his vodka and ignores the bard long enough for him to start fidgeting while he debates some more about how far he wants to take this.

"Dark." He answers, finally.

"Ah, a dark eyed beauty for our witcher, is it?" Zoltan nods his approval and Gerlat mentally smirks at picturing Regis' indignation at being referred to as a 'beauty'. "My question; tall or short?"

"Compared to what?" The question could be answered easily. Regis is taller, though not by very much. but it's an opportunity to draw the questions out and buy some time. 

"Very droll. Compared to you, naturally." Zoltan eyes him over the rim of his vodka glass, as though Dandelions earlier assertations of foul play are being watched for.

"Taller, then." 

Dandelion frowns, tapping his chin with one finger as he rearranges his mental list of potentials.

"Taller than you. Interesting, no,no, not her....but I wonder...Now, Geralt, you can't count her shoes in this. Those court heels...Oh, very well, my next question. I won't ask clever or dull, because you have never once taken up with anyone dull.So...kind or cruel?"

"Kind." Geralts answer is immediate.

"Rich or poor?" Zoltan pours another shot and waits. 

"In what sense? Monetary?" Zoltan shrugs and nods. "I don't actually know. I'd hazard rich, but they don't live like it."

"Oho, a humble one this time, that might make for a refreshing change."

Geralt rolls his eyes again.

"My last question, Geralt, is hair color. Dark or light?

Geralt thinks of Regis's soft hair, dark and shining strands salted with so much gray and silver, combing between his fingers.

"Yes." He answeres simply, because it's true, and smiles a little at the memory.

"A mixture of both, then?" The bard clarifies. "Most interesting." His brow is deeply furrowed in thought. Geralt supposes its because that last answer ruled out whoever he had been considering.

"Well now, Dandelion here thinks he's got it in the bag as he knows the court. So my last question is, does he know this person? Or not?"

Person. Zoltan had said person and not woman....It's given Geralt an opening to drop a hint he hadn't been considering. It's bold as far as his answers so far have been, but he wants to be able to tell them and at this rate they'll never figure it out.

"You both do. Have for a long time."

"Hmm. Dark eyes, taller than you, kind, humble, someone known to us...." Dandelion's eyes go distant as he juggles possibilities.

"You've an idea, Dandelion? Because I can't think of anyone we would know as fits that particular description. Ah, one more for my memory." Zoltan tosses back another shot. 

Suddenly the bard snaps back to the present, features alert and cautious, brow still furrowed. He glances at the witcher and Geralt feels himself go cold. Dandelion's figured it out. He can see it coming.

"You know, take away the guessing game, and you could almost be describing Regis..."

Zoltan laughs. "Regis.It fits close enough, doesn't it. Dandelion's right, you are a cheat. I suppose he's got a sister? Would've had us guessing for ages and no closer for it."

"Zoltan," And Dandelion's tone has sharpend enough to get the dwarf's attention. He stops laughing, looking back and forth between his two friends."I don't think he's cheating. It is Regis, isn't it? You're... involved with Regis."

Geralt goes still and quiet for a moment.

"I am." 

"You are?" Zoltan. "For serious?!"

He nods and swallows too much vodka, the burn of pepper flaring down his throat, chasing the cold feeling out of the pit of his stomach. He feels like he might puke and its much too early in the evening for that.

"Zoltan, think about it," Dandelion continues, "the description fits. And that last game, if he didn't cheat, I was only guessing at women's names. Even if I got those all correct, which I still maintain that I did, then that might not have been all of his lovers, if..."

"What, if he also likes men?" Zoltan finished, catching on. "I never would have guessed you'd play both sides of the board, so to speak. Huh. You and the vampire. Well, opposites attract, they do say. So why are you just now telling us?"

"You just made me."

"Geralt, Zoltan has a point. I feel the need to ask, as you know I am no stranger to the notion of love, romantic or otherwise, and am fully aware that not all of it must remain constrained to that between a man and a woman. Have we done something to offend you, or make you think you couldn't trust us to tell it? I feel sure I speak for both of us when I say its our only wish that you be happy."

"I woulda put it less flowery, but what he says is true. We're your friends, Geralt and you've done right by us all these years with no more judgement than we deserved. So why couldn't you have done us the same turn?"

"I wasn't..." Geralts throat feels thick. He blames it on the vodka. Of course its the vodka. He swallows and tries again. " No, you've never made me feel like I couldn't trust you. Either of you. I just...haven't told anyone. Folk at the house know, or guess, because he's there all the time. And Ciri. And Yen. Eskel, Lambert. Dettlaff...I think Orianna knows but that's more Regis's business than mine."

"What, you're saying we were the last to know? Figures. Fuckin' bloody, stubborn witchers." 

"Last to know. Geralt, I'm ashamed that my bardic perceptions have clearly failed me in this. I'm wounded, truly. Though, I do have one small question, if you'll indulge my curiosity?"

"Do I have choice?"

Always. But I must ask, how was I ever to guess at this truth about you when you have not once in all our years together, hit on me?"

"Simple. You weren't. You're not interested in men. And even if you were, you're not my type."

Dandelion looks scandalized. He scoffs, mock offended. "I'll have you know that I am _everybody's_ type. In principal, if not in actuality, of course."

"Not mine."

Zoltan is laughing at them. He shakes his head at the bard. "Be careful, laddie, you'll go and get yer heart broke. And then what will the talented and lovely Priscilla have left?"

"Dare I ask why? For curiosity, once more. I suppose I can understand some reticence to share with us, but you've never been shy about your interest in women while we were around, indeed I can recall several in depth conversations you and I have had..."

"Please don't." Geralt interrupted.

"Right, where was I, oh, yes, I was curious to know then, what is your type when it comes to our gender? I happen to know some gentlemen who might, for lack of a better term, be eligible?"

"Dandelion. No."

"No need to get wound up over it," The bard prattled on, " I just thought that if your history with relationships holds, and there's no reason to suppose it won't, it wouldn't hurt to have a few options open to you in the future."

_"No."_

"Suit yourself."

"Well, really, Dandelion, what did you expect? If you'd've told us about your pretty Priscilla and we'd started in with other women, not that you ever need the encouragement, mind you, you'd have gone and gotten offended, too."

"You're right, Zoltan. Geralt, I apologize. I'd like to propose another toast." He poured their glasses to overflowing after which he paused a moment for dramatic effect and to define what he wanted to say, then seemed to give it second thought. After which he cleared his throat and raised his glass, waiting until they did the same.

"To new beginnings!" 

"Hear, hear" Zoltan added before they all clinked glasses.

And just like that, everything between them went back to the way it had always been.

**Author's Note:**

> Not the best thing I've ever written, but after an entire winter of writing and art block, it feels pretty good to just...write. Anything. At all. So, velvetto- thank you for the prompt and for being so, so patient!


End file.
